What's up with that name?

Ok, so I decided to create a blog rather than sending out emails every month or so. This way, if you want to read what I am saying then you can, and if you don't then I am not taking up space in your 'inbox'. This blog will be dedicated to my life as a wife, mother, daughter and employee and how the Lord is using these roles to 'refine' me into his image. You may ask 'Why do you want to do that?". The answer is simple - I feel led to do that. If no one reads it (and I know mama will), then at least I have my own personal online journal.

So, what's up with the name - 'Another Nut that Needs to Dust!'? Well, this is a story that is hystercal to me and mama - but you may have needed to be there for it to be funny to you. I am sorry to 'go there' again, but I have take you back to the beginning of the panic attacks - before we even knew I was having panic attacks.


As you may know, one morning - very early morning - I woke up with what felt like an elephant on my chest. It was so painful. I had no idea why, but I was overwhelmingly sad and could not stop crying. CRY, CRY, CRY! Not fun for me or for anyone in close proximity. As the sun rose and I made myself to work, the feeling kept getting progressivly worse - the crying would not stop and my thoughts were very irrational.


So, what did I do. Those of you who know me very well at all know I called mama. I explained everything to her in very short, raspy breaths. She told me to go into the stairwell at the office and pray. I did... nothing, kept getting worse. Mama, in her infinite wisdom realized this could be BIG. As soon as daddy got home from work, they headed to Orlando.


When they got there, they found George in the kitchen with a blank look on his face and me in the bed - fetal position. Let me assure you, NO ONE was laughing at this point. There are probably no words to explain the pain any of us felt. If you have any history with panic attacks or any kind of mental illness, then no words are needed. Never fear though, Wonder Mom was here. I feel certain she had on her cape.

We gathered around the table that night for dinner - ignoring the elephant in the room. Daddy went and got KFC for us all. Mind you, I had not eaten in 2 days at that point and this would continue for another 2 weeks and 14 pounds. So I watched in disgust as daddy, Ty and George gladly ate that chicken - bones and all, I swear. Ugh... It was then that mama concluded that tomorrow morning we would get up early and she I would clean the house - top to bottom. The men could do the yard. And that is what we did.

You see, cleaning is therapy for mama. When she is 'sad' she cleans and she feels better. So, logically, I was sad and I needed to clean to feel better. She was all over that house like a wild woman. Curtains came down, soap scum was banished, dust bunnies begone. And I cleaned the refridgerator. It was about all I did, but don't down play it. When the men came in, the fridge was the only thing they commented on. =)

Mama was so proud, she looked at me and smiled, I looked at her and cried. Wonder mom wasn't defeated though (even though the evening concluded with a trip to the ER)... nope she just looked at me and said 'Tomorrow we are going to get up early and just you and I are going shopping in Mt. Dora and have a nice breakfast!'. That would make me feel better...right?

So, we got up and headed out the door. We drove to Mt Dora and stopped at a little place for breakfast - which I didn't want any part of. I ordered the pancakes and a tall glass of milk. Mama got her a nice platter as well. I ate 1 bite and was very full... I just cried and cried. I litterally cried so much that the poor waitress came to refill mama's tea and asked 'Is everything ok here... with...the...food?' We left her a good tip. I cried all day and all the way home. I cried for the next year.

That night, mama kicked back in the recliner, defeated and stunned. Wonder Mom was now worried mom. She looked at me and said,

'Well, I've learned something new about people with anxiety.'

'What's that, mom?'.

She says 'Until yesterday I always looked at someone who claimed they were having

anxiety attacks and said 'Ah, just another nut that needs to dust', guess that's doesn't

always work.'

We laughed...

It wasn't the last laugh, it wasn't the last tear either. But we made it. Me, wonder mom and George too. Amazingly, by God's grace we made it. Those were not good times, but they were such sweet, special times that really bring to the surface what true love really is. I have concluded that I am just another nut that needs to dust, but aren't we all?